Tuesday, May 31, 2005

The 2 Year Old in Me

It's easy to spot when I am sick. I turn into a two year old. Every word I utter comes out with that babyish pout and I get grumpy. I don't talk like a baby per se, but I get very pouty and don't like anything.

So, I guess you see what I see. I'm sick.

I should have known by my work today. Right before a good sick comes on, I get very focused. Then I get sort of grumpy. Then I sleep. Then I'm sick.

I don't know what yet...it hasn't manifested itself. I have a sore throat, on the left side only. I have no cough. No sniffle. I have a low fever. I'm cranky. I'm not at all hungry, yet I want soup.

Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.

I have to fill out my self-review for my year review tonight. My review is Thursday. It's seriously going to suck. And me filling this out while cranky and sick is a bad, bad, bad idea.

Let's review Funny Things to Do at My Review (originally posted in October 2004 at my 90 day review)

I'm having lunch with 2 of my bosses next Wednesday to discuss my 90 day review. I've been coming up with entertaining ways to cope with the stress.

1. Immediately after sitting, line my blood pressure medications up in front of my plate, take several deep breaths and say "Okay, GO!" (Randomly pop pills as they speak).

2. Attempt to slice wrists open with the butter knife upon hearing criticism

For inexplicable reasons last night I could sleep not. Every 20 minutes I was rolling over, my brain on high idle. So on the ride to work I was on auto-pilot, then when I drop off TOW she says, "Oh, here, I still have the card and we need gas." We kiss adieu, and I make a bee-line for the nearest mail box to send off a clutch of movies to Blockbuster.com and get new films tomm. I get out of the car and with the DVDs in one hand and the credit card in the other I'm about to fish out my wallet and slide the plastic cash away when the phone starts ringing.

"Honey, you have to get back here! I left some mortgage files in the back seat!"

Dump the discs in the slot, make for the car, and double back to my betrothed. I hand off the documents and get a bonus kiss, and then we are both on the way to work. But wait a tic.......

I pull out the wallet and the reserved slot is barren. Looking around there's nothing to find in the passenger's seat, the floor betrays no important items, and nothing new has ferreted itself between the seats. I dart over to the parking space beside were I had parked--no discovery. Retracing my steps I am sure nobody could have been here in the short time I was gone and the card will be found abandoned on the path I had taken.

Then I stare for ten seconds at the maw where I had tossed the movies into the mail.

The Odd One had called just as I had arrived at the mail boxes and in order to grab my phone I had to switch the card to the hand holding the movies, and when she told me I had to get back to her immediately in went the parcels, bank card included. I stood there with my mouth hanging open like the mail slot.

I was promised death if we couldn't retrieve it and at lunch she got it back, so I was able to plead down to incurring a limp inducing injury. She's resting now so I bet I have a shot coming to me tonight in my sleep.

I feel like a pouting little girl, with arms folded sternly and lower lip extended just so.

I don't want to...

I don't want to check my bank account and see my balance...I know I spent too much money this weekend.

I don't want to cook dinner tonight. I forgot to defrost things and I'm tired and cranky.

I don't want to sit here at work. I'm tired. I want my bed. My best friend and I aren't speaking and since we work together it makes for a rotten day of seeing who can out-ignore the other.

I don't want to go to the hospital tonight to see Barb (landlady). I hate hospitals, they freak me out, and I'm tired! And if it IS meningitis, I don't want any MORE exposure to it.

I don't want to fold, hang and put away the MONSTEROUS pile of clean clothes on my couch. There's too much of it.

I don't want to clean my house at all. I want to go home and lie down in my bed with the remote control and a cold drink and be left alone.

I don't want to put down my brand new book. I love when you buy a new book and really get into it! I reread my poor books until they are dust so a new, shiny book is an incredible treat! I am reading The Time Traveler's Wife and really enjoying it!

I don't want to face that long, long traffic congested ride home...

I don't want to have to clobber EH today, but I know it's coming. It started when he called me this morning to tell me he had just accidentally thrown our only bank debit/atm card into a post office mailbox this morning. Fortunately I pleaded with a mail-woman to retrieve it for me and promised to beat my husband later.

I don't want to do much of anything. Are you sure it isn't Monday? Because it sure feels like one! My energy is just sapped and I'm as lethargic as can be - which is strange since I am kicking ass at my pile of work today.

Monday, May 30, 2005

Memorial Day

Taking a moment to remember the men and women who have served the United States of America with pride and affection...

Did you enjoy your Monday holiday?

Our traditional plans for a gathering with dear friends fell through amid some terse words. Said friends were missing in action despite repeated calls to them until nearly 1 pm and then responded with somewhat bitchy tone. We decided we could make a day of it on our own and left said friends to themselves.

Lunch at California Pizza Kitchen took my mind off the food I had purchased in preparation of the day. After, we did some shopping and get lost in the local bookstore for a few hours.

Relaxing, after all!

The little boy kitten has been adopted! By our neighbor, an elderly man seeking a companion. I am ashamed to admit we pushed the boy at him and we deliberately withheld the female. We're only human, we fell in love. If we can somehow make our gi-normous cat Sasha accept the newcomer, we've ended up with yet ANOTHER pet. *sigh*

Sasha is resisting. The only thing scarer than a VERY angry cat is a VERY angry cat the size of Sasha. She must weigh 30 lbs.

With the plans of the day disrupted and such, it takes an effort to focus on the reason for the day. Nevertheless, I am deeply grateful to those who have and who continue to serve in the military for our country.

Sunday, May 29, 2005

With the events transpiring in the life of our landlady and her two grown daughters, it gives me pause to reflect on our own family.

Tonight, we heard the details of the two daughters childhood...filled with alcoholism, sexual abuse, physical abuse, emotional abuse - and I felt an intense urge to hug my family close.

There is no way of restoring those moments in these women's lives. No undoing, no do-over, no erasing.

We struggle with money. Beyond that, our biggest problem is that our house is always on the messy side.

Our house has never lacked for love.

Even with the events of last year, it wasn't about a lack of love. It was confusion, passive-aggressiveness, acting out...but not a lack of love. EH, SG and I love each other deeply. We care. We put each other first.

For all my bitching, you'll never hear me complain about a lack of love.

Sure, I get frustrated being married to the stereo-typical starving writer who can't manage a real job with a good income. Sure, I get annoyed with a seriously sub-standard sex life (in May we did it twice!). Sure, I get irritated by a lack of money. But I see these things as trade-offs.

Look at what I do have...

A husband who still looks into my eyes and caresses my cheek softly in the middle of a grocery store without a word.

A man who grows, tends and cuts fresh roses for me every day.

A man who helps out 50/50 and sometimes more with household and parenting.

A man who is gentle, kind, loving and puts me first.

A man who had never touched me or spoken to me with anything but love.

A daughter who is a perfect student and perfect daughter - never misbehaving or acting out.

I'm feeling my age. No, I take that back, I am feeling my mother's age. Possibly her mother's age, which sort of sucks since her mother has been deceased for 9 years.

Laser tag last night was great fun but not really the smartest activity for my recent health issues. Last night, my chest hurt badly enough to make me wonder if I was heading for a heart attack and today my legs hurt so bad that I can hardly walk without making "old lady" faces. EH is making grunting noises as he climbs the stairs, so I know he's feeling it too.

With our 3-day Memorial Weekend, Laser Tag was our biggest activity. We have an annual tradition of spending it with our best friends and their children. Usually a picnic. This year...we're just hanging out. We refused to even plan the menu. We just don't have any energy. All we knew was that we didn't want to be outside without air conditioning.

Saturday, May 28, 2005

Entering My Wife's Minefield

Because she brought it up I will weigh in on my beloved's mention of feminine idealism.

She first mentioned this subject to me a few evenings back and presented some photos of the malnourished physiques and asked rather pointedly if this was a sexy look, and then began to suspect my gender was fostering this standard as the ideal. My response is that if anything the women and the industries in which they reside were responsible for this trend.

By example I offered up the transmogriphying of Lyndsay Lohan.

When she turned 18 she became the darling of the internet because men were able to comment on her looks without being deemed a pedophile. Now, as she has whittled herself into a scarecrow, she has become a joke. TOW and I argue over this, but I say that when she was a voluptuary she was more preferable. Why would men salivate over the girl and then drive her to forgo protein?

For my taste I have always taken the standpoint of Jack Nicholson in "Something's Gotta Give" when he was asked what type of woman he favors and says, "The wonderful thing about me is that I don't have a type." But I can say with confidence that by and large most men would look at these skeletal females with disdain. In my wife's office are two women she works alongside who are both rail thin, and she recants how they are the type to walk around and talk of how fat they are. When she asked my about them some time ago I told her most men would not even look at either one until they add 15-20 lbs.

I agree that there many archetypes of women portrayed in the media--protruding chests, hourglass figures, drum-head rear ends--and that these are unacheivable for many women. My wife disputes this, but there are nearly as many examples of male perfection. Last summer when "Troy" was in theaters more people talked about Bradd Pitt's guns that his hefting the work of The Odyssey. I didn't take it personally however.

Today is a very good day. I just woke up in a great mood - slept late, dreamt lovely dreams, woke to an aroused husband. My paycheck hit my bank early, I have a great opportunity in front of me and my garden is just full of colorful blooms.

Soon we'll be heading off to a rousing game of Laser Quest with my best friend, M and her two boys.

If you've never played Laser Quest, you've missed out. Us "grown-ups" have as much fun as the kids. You suit up in a vest with laser gun and enter a dark, smokey arena with tons of maze-like walls and catwalks (two levels). You get about a 10 second head start before it's "game on" and your mission is to shoot everything that moves. When you get shot, your laser stops working for 15-30 seconds. At the end, the one with the most direct hits to opponents wins. We love it.

My landlady is in status quo condition. She's still unresponsive, but appearing to respond to the antibiotics. Her two daughters are in town and we're waiting on them as I write this to discuss the situation.

Oh - I had added those points/rewards programs to my left side column under "Online Nifties" at the top. I love the Free Ride one. I have about 35,000 points and I already qualify to redeem them for restaurant gift cards, but I'm saving for the $50 Walmart cards, etc. for the holiday shopping fun. I signed up for a few spam-y email things on a special email account and once or twice a week I open it and just click through all the email links. It takes about 15 minutes. I have a new one for you today. NFO's My Survey is another of my favorites. They email you really short surveys (maybe 2 minutes to take?) and send you products to try, etc. You get 10-20 points per survey. Occasionally a really long survey comes and is worth many more points...these points are redeemable for cash or gift cards. Definitely worth checking out. I've done this one for years and was so happy to find it again.

Friday, May 27, 2005

Hey, guys?

And by guys, I mean "men", "boys", "gentlemen" even...

Would you do me a favor? Would you speak up about what you find to be sexy on a woman in terms of physique? So that the fuckwits of the world will stop driving women to death to please you? Hollywood, you listening? Modeling industry, you too?

Thanks.

Women are killing themselves to be 'thin enough' because they think you find it sexy. Other women can't criticize it without being accused of "jealousy". And the trends that once inspired hordes of bulimic and annorexic chicks to diet to death are coming back into fashion.

Would you speak up, please?

Are sharp angles and bones really prettier to you than soft curves? Do you like the knobby look of sternum bones protruding where sexy cleavage should be? Are elbows that look like they could pierce you with their pointiness really a turn-on?

Do you prefer chests like that of a 12 year old boy?

Lindsay Lohan was a vibrant, voluptuous red head not so long ago. Today she is a bleached blonde skeleton and making magazine covers.

Speak up.

This isn't some fit of jealousy. I'm not a skinny girl and never wanted to be. I've been curvy since puberty. I've been slimmer than I am now, but never bony. Is bony really sexy to you?

Is there something wrong with soft, womanly flesh that cushions your touch? With full breasts or a rounded ass? Is there something to be ashamed of if you can't see every rib?

Is this what you like?

None of these are "naturally thin" women. Every woman above has deliberately sculped her body in this fashion through an excruciating combination of diet and exercise. And every time they show up like this in a magazine, on TV, in a movie...another young woman or girl thinks she has to try to look this way.

Guys...? Be vocal. There wouldn't be pressure on women to always get thinner, thinner, thinner if someone didn't believe it was what sold as sexy.

You had to know that the drama wouldn't stop as simply as that, right?

Regarding my landlady, they are now thinking it was not a stroke. They thought she had some sort of infection and last night they used the word "meningitis".

We've all been with her. Touching her, rubbing her head, cleaning her house up, handling her and her things. SG spent hours with her last week watching TV together and keeping her company.

If it truly is meningitis, we've all been exposed. The thing that scares me the most, the first thought in my mind was "Allison". Allison is a pregnant co-worker that I adore. If I have exposed her, if I have infected her or her unborn child...I just do not know how to live with that after losing my son last year.

We're worried, but in wait and see mode. One thing we know is that all the nurses and doctors are saying she won't last much longer. It's time to say our goodbyes.

I tried to remember the last words I spoke to her. I don't know for sure. On Tuesday night, I'm sure it was "You're going to be okay, don't worry", which was a lie. Does it count if she wasn't coherent? Do I have to think back to the last words when she was?

Thursday, May 26, 2005

It Was a Dark and Stormy Night...

Our landlady's condition has deteriorated and she is now on a respirator. At 77 years old, this is obviously not good news. It looks like the end is near...

We're going to dinner tonight with our neighbor, Ed. Ed is a gruff, middle-aged New York building inspector that we have lived beside for the past 5 years. He's paranoid, grouchy, tempermental and has a heart of gold. We love him and he loves us. We have no idea what makes this relationship work, but it does. During the hurricanes of last summer when we were without power for 7 days he obtained a much coveted generator and ran power cords to our house to give us a bit of relief too. We'll miss him most of all.

It's time to move. I figure we have about 30-60 days to get our act together. We're not really ready to buy, but renting with a large dog will be very hard. Decisions, decisions...

I'm really looking forward to the three-day weekend to do some thinking and planning.

Thunder and lightening are all around, so I better say "Sayonara!" for now.

Man cuts off and EATS his own penis...(so many jokes, so little time - but here's a few quick shots: "About time a man had to stick that thing in his own mouth." "According to the story, this was related to an erectile dysfunction issue - was this supposed to HELP???"

I've posted in the past about our elderly landlady/neighbor that we look after and her many brushes with death. Somehow that woman just keeps on going...

Or maybe not.

Last night, we got home a bit late. SG had her annual pool party celebrating the end of the school year at her gifted teacher's house and a few errands kept us on the go until late. It was "garbage night", so EH went next door to fetch our landlady's trash and check on her.

It looks like she may have had a stroke. She was lying twisted on her floor, conscious and breathing rapidly as if in extreme pain. Her hands shaking violently. She would respond "Yes" or "What" to her name only and nothing else. This woman will usually talk you into a coma, given the chance, so for her to be unable to communicate scares the hell out of me.

It's not good. She could have been there all day.

Paramedics took her in to the local hospital, but now the challenges are in front of us. Her only family is 2 grown daughters who live far away. The hospital will not release any information via telephone or in person to EH or I since we are technically not family (although we're thought of as family). We have no way of finding out her condition.

Monday, May 23, 2005

All Nighter

And so, I'll never sleep again!

EH and I just finished watching the movie White Noise. It doesn't even matter that it didn't make much sense at the end. All I know is that it scared the hell out of me. I am officially afraid of static.

So, since I'm up...let's talk nonsense, shall we?

It was a typical Monday at work much to my dismay. I arrived on time and promptly dove into my work and found myself incredibly focused and productive...until my supervisor got snippy out of the blue. A co-worker that I don't work directly with had called to speak with her and then asked to speak to me. In transferring the call to me, she asked me why he would ask for me. I said that I didn't know and guessed that maybe he was wanting to ask why I missed the party over the weekend or to ask for a CD he had loaned me back. She snapped at me that I didn't really have time for this kind of personal interaction and to keep it short.

I'm 32. I've never had to be disciplined at work. What is this shit? I didn't ask this employee to call me and I was minding my own business and doing my job. The call didn't distract me...her attitude did. While I managed to get back to focused and got a ton of work done, I seethed for the rest of the day and dreamt of a new job with grown-ups who have some shred of management experience. I might add that as usual I did not take a lunch break and stayed almost an hour past quitting time.

Moving on...

Did you ever have a million dollar idea? I've had a few in my lifetime. Sounds silly, right? It's true. I've had 3 to be precise. One was an invention that I talked to my family about and a few years later saw it developed (but it has yet to enter wide-use). The second was a business service and I actually did start my own small business and found a modicum of success. At least until I put all my eggs in one basket and lost my focus. The third was a technology idea - and this is the one I want to talk about now.

I was convinced my technology idea was the next big thing. I discussed it with a select trusted few. I wrote up notes, I computed costs and profits, I drafted ideas...but I found myself too busy to develop it. And then tonight, I discovered someone had tried to implement this idea...only they gave up on it. That fuels my interest to re-pursue this. Maybe...? I'll need an investor first and I'm preparing to put out feelers to a couple people that I know who might take an interest.

I'm going to go spend the rest of the night reading now...in a spooked, huddled sort of way.

Sunday, May 22, 2005

Our Asian Evening

EH and I like to consider ourselves fairly cultural sorts. We're into the arts, particularly film, and we enjoy strolling through art festivals and fairs. On many things, we agree and share interests and yet we have individual preferences and styles also.

With my back pains acting up again Saturday night, we skipped a super-cool party we'd been invited to and settled in for a rainy night of Asian fun.

First, we learned that the cute-sy Japanese cat with one or both paws waving is called Maneki Neko and we learned the legend behind it (Thanks, Google!)

Next, we picked up a hearty Chinese feast for us all and rented 2 Japanese foreign films from the local Blockbuster. SG got a game since neither film was appropriate for her to see.

EH and I watched The Audition, which is a widely popular Japanese horror flick. I was crawling off the couch, covering my eyes and shrieking. Success.

Next, as it got later, we snuggled into bed to watch 2LDK, in my opinion a roaring good time. If you have a twisted sense of humor and can keep up with a subtitled film, I highly recommend checking this one out. I LOVED it and it's the sort of film you talk about later. Extraordinary. They took a low budget, two cast member film and made it great. That's what independent film is about.

In the end, what we learned from our evening was plentiful...

Maneki Neko is a Japanese good luck symbol and means "Beckoning Cat" based on a legend of a cat named Tama

Honey Garlic Chicken is awful. I won't make that mistake again.

"Hai" is a weak translation of "yes" and really is the equivalent of "Uh-huh"

It's true. Something rather innocent caught my attention and seemed a bit suspicious to me. It still does.

And yes, I love him.

Let me explain...

I'm a bit emotionally skittish now. I've never been hurt or betrayed in a relationship and last year was hard to take. I still feel madly in love with EH, but I am also very afraid. Have you ever seen a dog that's been abused? The way his tail wags tentatively and you can see in his eyes how much he wants to feel your hand on his head, but he's crouched low to the ground and looks prepared to bolt. Even as much as he is wanting your touch, he is prepared to flee in anticipation of a severe beating.

That's me. I'm the beat dog.

How many times have you heard of a repeat cheater? Someone who cheats over and over? Of course we never hear of the man who strays and then is well-behaved for the rest of his life, right?

So, I watch. Wait. Anticipating that he might do it again. Knowing it would kill me if he did. Knowing I would never be able to love again. Afraid.

I move to feel him. My heart beats for him. I wrap myself around him entirely and find myself falling into a place where I trust him and believe in him.

But in the very far corners of my subconsciousness, I am always watching for a signal. Wanting to be able to run before he can hurt me again. Ready to bolt.

It's hard. Harder than it would have been to leave him after last year. Much harder. But this man is my soul mate (without question). If it's not going to be him, then I don't want anyone else either.

Saturday, May 21, 2005

--> I was right, there is a curse. The second straight person to voice Fred Flinstone has met his end! They should hawk Fruity Pebbles in semaphore if they really cared.

--> Just like a cigarette tax for health projects suggests that you have to smoke, if I'm reading this story correctly it means we have to binge drink in order to wipe out a scourge.

--> It says plenty about the quality of things at Cannes if they decided that this actor was the best of the Festival.

--> Lastly, because I love trashing America's Paris-ite: First an interview where she tries to profess that she has no idea what a blog is, and then in the same sentence opines about people who gossip on blogs. Next, because I'm a gossipy blogger, there's this story: Recently Paris was dining with Pamela Anderson, if you can imagine. (they could combine into some form of an intellect vacuum. A Peroxide Hole, maybe?) Before they could order the air-head heiress threw a snit, and a menu, because she was stressed at having to read. This seems so perfect that it has to be complete hokum, but if I can link to a source I sure as hell will do it.

Thursday was quasi-mayhem for us both. I was rushing from apointments downtown and in a flurry grabbed some items to get to TOW in time for her Dr. appointments. She left the office late and in a dervish made for the spine medic before running to her primary who was closing shop in 30 min. We managed to encounter two accidents and missed the appointment, amid loads of stress. Then we got home.

Barely were we in the door when she noticed something I had done in my earlier fervor. It was an innocuous action but it also could be interpreted as something else entirely, because of what I had done last year. Well, she interpreted, and just like that she was angry and packing to spend the night elsewhere. She continuously asked me to explain why I had done it and all I could do was tell her the innocent truth. She was convinced I was lying, and kept making for the door. My choices were to sit by and watch her leave or to stand in front of her insisting that she was in fact mistaken. I held fast. I did not want her to leave.

This is the reality I have made for myself. Because of what I did to my wife her self-defense system is in perpetual high alert. This made for a paradoxic situation where she was incorrect and also completely justified. Amid high volume exchanges I hear myself saying things like, "You have a reason to leave but this is not the reason." To my sweet relief she remained and for the duration we managed to have a nice evening in the end.

The truth of it all is that I have no reason to have this woman after what I did to her, but it shows why I love her that we are still together. As I told her later that night, "There is no me without you." It reads like poorly written treacle from a bad romance film but when I speak it from the standpoint of truth it has nothing but conviction. For the past few nights when I rolled over in the dark to see her lying beside me I have moved closer to her, drapped an arm over her form, and fallen back to sleep with a smile on my face.

And, the new office manager at the chiropractor's office attempted to tell me that I look like Julianne Moore. Of COURSE I do. I think I love her (the office manager, not Julianne Moore), even if she is seriously delusional. Your hear me, Dr. Wald? She stays! Good help like that is mighty hard to come by.

Second, we have two tiny housegueats tonight. EH discovered the darling duo abandoned and suffering in intense heat in a corner of his work back lot. A tiny brother and sister. He is incredibly timid and little sister is very adventurous. Both are so adorable and content to cuddle in your arms for hours. SG and I took a kitten nap - as opposed to a cat nap - where we dozed while kittens dozed on top of us. We're keeping them overnight to take them to the shelter, yes we are-yes we are-yes we are-yes we are. We are not keeping them, no we aren't-no we aren't. I think we're the first humans they've known, so we made efforts to handle them as much as we could before taking them to the shelter.

Hey! I found this gem online and I HAVE TO HAVE IT!!! Paul Anka singing JUMP by Van Halen is just beyond value. Ladies? Father's Day is just around the corner!

A-a-a-a-a-a-and.....As long as we're dropping gift ideas - I really want this one...

You know, I remember when I was cool. Partying all night. I've eaten pizza at 3 am with Emmy-award winning pals. I've danced on stages. I've cavorted. I've done things I wouldn't tell my mother about (even though she was usually with me when I did them anyways...). And now...what??? I sleep, cuddling with kittens watching Wonder Woman Season 1 on DVD and blogging to you.

I didn't mention the outcome of the Doctor visit, did I? There wasn't one. A traffic nightmare diverted us and that was that. I think it was a 'sign'. This doctor hasn't been all that wonderful... In the spirit of The Apprentice season finale, let me say to my primary care physician, "You're Fired!"

And Doc Wald...? Thanks. I mean it.

Bloggers! Did I leave a sweet comment for you today? Vicodin makes me really affectionate. I still meant the comments. If I didn't comment, I just didn't get to you yet...

Getting out of bed was the last thing I wanted to do this morning. I only wanted to roll over and go back to sleep.

Managing an entire day is so tiring right now. And today is, after all, D-Day for me.

Have I been a good girl? Will my doctor let me remain free or will I be carted off to the local hospital for admission as an in-patient? I'm confident I've been on my best behavior.

EH has taken the day off and I would give almost anything to spend the day snuggled against him in bed. He's doing the job interview circuit today...so fingers crossed, boys and girls!

My back is tight, but feeling a little better than yesterday. Dr. Lance (new chiropractor extraordinaire and fantastically fabulous reader of this blog) did me good (even if I still hate being cracked) but the prognosis for my back pain is guarded. Darn, darn, darn. I swear that I am going out to Staples to buy myself an Easy button. Just once I want something to go easy!

I just want to go back to bed and roll over. I'm not up to a whole Thursday.

And, yet...off I go.

If I'm not back by tonight, they've got me strapped to a hospital bed. (And that's not the kind of bed I want to spend the day rolling over in!)

Wednesday, May 18, 2005

Can you feel my eyes on you when you move past me? The way that I look you up and down, relishing the sight much the way one might lick an ice-cream on a hot day.

Can you see the thoughts behind my eyes when you speak to me? Sometimes I don't even hear the words, I am just watching the animation of your face.

Can you hear my breath quicken when you're near? Do you even know that my entire body feels your presence?

I don't think you are aware of your effect on me. I don't think you know that I crave the taste of your skin. I don't think you are aware that I picture you in raw and sexual situations.

Do you know that my insides go all soft and tender when I think of you? That I can't stop a small smile of my own when I picture your smile.

Do you know that I am in love with you beyond the measures that I thought possible? Truly. Madly. Deeply.

You do delicious things to every sense I have. You set my pulse racing. You enchant me.

All this time and I am still feeling these feelings so strong. So much. So...wonderful.

EH, you are the magic in my life. If you didn't know these things, I am telling you now. You are the most incredible person I have known and I consider myself the luckiest girl in the world to love, and be loved by, you.

Bitch and moan. That's about the extent of what I have to offer for a post, so let's just sum it up, shall we?

Ouch.

My back is killing me. I'm so frustrated. It hurts to sit which is making work=hell, when I get home I am in enough pain that all I can really do is lie down, leaving EH to scramble to cook, clean, etc and he's beginning to look a bit annoyed (even if he swears that he's not).

I see Dr. Wald tonight for another chiropractic cracking. Part of me wishes he could just SNAP me in one forceful motion and make it all better.

I see Dr. Rubin tomorrow for another heart-to-heart chat about my heart problems. I think this may be my last visit to Dr. Rubin. He's not impressing me with his tactics...we're not doing much testing or treatment. He just yells a lot.

Inner thoughts of the day? I'm annoyed with myself. I have entertained far too many thoughts about the weirdness of this sudden new connection to my Ex.

Ex was wonderful. He was everything a girl should/could want. I treated him like shit the last few years of our relationship. I was a mixed up spoiled brat. And I fell head over heels in love with EH. It wasn't Ex's fault. Ex didn't deserve any of it. But I would still stand by my decision. No matter how wonderful Ex was - EH is without a doubt my true soulmate. That is something never questioned or doubted. My love for EH surpasses anything I had ever felt before...even to this day.

And Ex has moved on to much better things. Shortly after I left Ex, he began dating Miss Peru. Today he is married to a woman who I've heard is "hot". I truly do hope they're happy because he deserves every bit of it.

I admit to thoughts like "What if I run into them?", "What if Dr. Wald mentions me (he will, I'm sure)?"

The bottom line should be "Who cares?" but I do. I want there to be no awkwardness or worries for anyone. EH and Ex's new wife should be completely secure in knowing that they are the true loves of our life. Assuming Ex and I are in the same happy lives, our past isn't anything more than childhood memories for the most part (until something like this stirs them up). Ex and I parted well, surprisingly, but we could never be friends today or anything of that nature...and there's no reason to be. I do truly wish all the best for him and his family. Everyone has moved forward in the past 10 years and that's how it should stay.

I'd love to know how his family has been and what everyone has done with the last 10 years, but it's with the same interest you feel at a high school reunion. Who got married? Who had kids? Who got divorced? Who moved away? Who got great jobs?

Moving on...

My best friend is wearing a smile today that lights up the entire room and reminds me of how much I love her. I know the secret to her smile, she's got plans, secrets and ideas. She's at her very best right now.

EH needs a break. Anyone out there want to come take care of The Odd Wife for a week or two? I'm a giant pain in the ass when I'm hurt or sick. In addition to care, I also require attention. Only those with the patience of saints should even think about applying.

Monday, May 16, 2005

Midway through the day and the back pain was back. Sitting was unbearable once again. I turned to the insurance provider directory and looked myself up a chiropractor.

And...um...did I mention chiropractors scare the hell out of me?

You know how they grab your neck and roll it loosely in their hands, then suddenly whip it to one side with a sharp crack? Yeah. That. When Steven Seagal does it in his movies, people die.

But, this one says he's here to help, so let's see what he can do.

You know how when you are discussing pain with a professional, they always want to know "So, what caused this?" And, like an idiot, I answer the truth...that I have no idea. It just started out of the blue. I wish I could answer something much more fun...

"Well, I had just pulled the rip cord on the parachute and..."

"I was saving these orphans from a burning building, when..."

"We were experimenting with the kama sutra positions just before..."

The visit turned out to be amusing when Doc and I chatted each other up. He's a They Might Be Giants fan, a blogger and a personable sort. He even likes films they way EH and I do.

I check my gmail account most often, so I had written it on the patient information form. In the office, he called me on the "Odd Wife" email and we discussed blogging and voila! he made the connection...and said he was going to look me up. (Oh shit! Faux pas #1!)

We were astonished when we realized how many mutual people we knew. It was all fun and games, dropping names, until the bomb shell.

My ex-husband's name. (Shit!!! Faux Pas #2!) They know each other well. Ex is a patient here too and the new wife is well known around the office.

Whoops.

The Ex. He was an awesome guy. I was just a mixed up kid who said "I do" and then ran away with someone else on the last day of the honeymoon. Literally.

"So! How do you know (insert Ex's name here)?"

"When I was 21 I ran away and left him on the last day of the honeymoon following our hugely expensive wedding."

"Um...er....(cough)" (Damn! Faux Pas #3!)

I don't imagine I am remembered fondly.

And, of course, this was the moment when I REALLY wished I had answered the "How did this happen?" question with...

"Well, my husband had me tied up and bent over, like this when the 5th orgasm ripped through me..."

On a more serious note, one of our good friends is having surgery today. We have all seen countless comments from Rosie on many of our blogs and she needs all our good thoughts and prayers. She will be in the hospital for a week, I believe, and the comment sections of our blogs won’t be the same with out her. Rosie, here’s to a speedy recovery! Drop her an email if you can, and send your well wishes as well to rosiegrrl@gmail.com.

Sunday, May 15, 2005

In a desperate effort to curb the amount of television SG watches per day, we encouraged her towards some other interests.

She does like to read, but her interest wanes as the magical moving picture box in the corner of a room beckons to her.

Today, we bought her some craft supplies and all the tools for a garden. She's making one small corner of the earth a prettier place. She bought one of every imaginable flowering plant under $1 and is currently working with EH to arrange and plant her explosion of colorful blooms by the front door. EH enjoys gardening too, so the two of them are pleased as punch with themselves.

I'm in a quiet place today...all the anger having been released. I find myself feeling peaceful and watchful. Health is still an issue. My blood pressure is incredibly low right now causing new worries. My diastolic number is 51 and I keep getting close to fainting. I found that even the bit of shopping we did today began to take a toll on me.

Home now. Cozy. Spaghetti simmering on the stove. The last bits of daylight slowly sinking as EH and SG plant the flowers. It's exactly where I want to be right now. Cozy. Comfortable. Simple. I wish I could stay in this place forever, but I know Monday lurks...

I honestly have no idea what happens next. There will be a serious doctor meeting this week. I'll know more after Wednesday.

I don't see EH as being in a position to take care of himself and SG if something happens to me and I think that's a huge part of my anger. I'm also angry because I need time off of work to deal with this health situation and can't take it. My job is what keeps us surviving and they can't tolerate extended absences - I genuinely think if I take the time off, I could be let go. And that would be disastrous for my family...right down to the health insurance I need so badly.

Tonight, I really wanted EH to leave. I didn't want him here with me anymore. I didn't want him going through any of this with me. I yelled, I begged him to leave, I raged at him.

He's sleeping in bed upstairs. He never listens.

I just wanted to be left alone. I think I still do. I don't know. Like I said, emotions all over the place. I love him, but I can't deal with anything right now. I'm angry.

Last night, I had a terrible dream. We were riding in a car with our labrador retriever and for some reason decided we couldn't have him anymore. So, we opened a steak, threw it out of the car and opened the door and let him out into the traffic stopped at a red light. A car beside us immediately opened the door and took him in. We're really attached to our fur-baby, so this bothered me quite a bit. Our dog is obsessed with loving us. He will ignore all other dogs, food, anything to shower us with love and affection. His mission in life is to simply love us. He's a good dog.

I wonder what my dream meant?

We sure aren't letting him go. We took him to Dog Park today and let him play at Dog Beach. He loves to run and leap into the water. Here's a tribute to my fur-baby.

Saturday, May 14, 2005

Hello, World!

Hello, world!

It's a lovely day, isn't it? The sun is shining! I slept late! My family is around me! I feel so much better!

Where did my nightmarish back pain go, you ask? Weird thing...yesterday at work, I took my 457th break to go into a conference room, lie on the floor and stretch my poor back and moved my knee and suddenly heard a loud POP! I'm still a bit stiff, but the awful pain has subsided significantly.

Bloggies, spare a second to check this site out. Little girl. Lot of pain and worry. If you can't personally help with the teeny tiny requests (Wendy's gift certificates? Gas cards? Barney videos?) then at least try to spread the word to someone else who might be able to help. The internet isn't just for cybersex, cheating blogs, anonymous snarky comments and hate email - some good makes it's way through too.

This weekend they are showing a free concert by none other than They Might Be Giants. TOW and I have a deep affection for this extremely unique duo. If you are not at all familiar with their works you may know their song "You're Not the Boss of Me Now" from the show Malcom in the Middle.

When The Odd One and Myself were first dating I introduced her to this band and she full-on embraced their quirky catalogue of music and it was one of the things that indicated we may in fact have a future together.

Even if you do not enjoy their songs here's a test: I defy anyone to look at guitarist John Flansburgh and not see him as a larger version of film critic Richard Roeper.

Thursday, May 12, 2005

An Open Letter to Me from Me

Dear Me,

Congratulations on making it through a full day at work today! I know it was damned hard. I saw your moments of tears, saw you struggle and saw you ultimately make it. And damned, if you didn't begin to feel better, didn't you? It's not entirely a spot of pride, because you didn't really fight for the good in the day, did you? You were too immersed in suffering and feeling awful to try to make it positive.

Let's face it, you've done this to yourself. I'm not going to sugar coat this because you need this kick in the ass. You're a fucking pain in the ass. You were told about high blood pressure SIX YEARS AGO and you never took it seriously for more than a week. You smoked, you reacted to every stress you could find in life, you thrived in chaos. You avoided doctors, you neglected meds. Fuck, the blood pressure pills you're taking now are from a prescription given to you in September and never filled. So, now you're looking at death. Well, you fucking brought it on, didn't you? Why? They told you that your heart was enlarged years ago. So, now it's failing - and, what? You're surprised? Why?

What's it going to be? Are you going to live or die?

And you spoiled, selfish bitch - putting your family through this. Last night, when EH kept holding you close in his sleep and whispering to you to "not go anywhere" you could hear the worry in his voice. It was unfair to put him in this place. It was fucking cruel to do this to your husband and daughter. There are friends and family who care about you for no reason other than they DO - and they deserve more fucking effort from you.

I'm thinking some major changes need to take place in your life...should you decide to live, you dumb bitch, I mean. Sorry for all the name calling, but I am extremely fucking angry with you.

It's time to focus a bit more on love, happiness and peace and a bit less on drama. It's time to stop being a fucking brat and live a life to be proud of.

It's time to stop fucking around and put forth some real effort. It's time to stop controlling people around you. Tonight, when EH was on the computer for 20 minutes, you had to fucking hold your hand over your own mouth to stop yourself from saying or doing things to get his attention. It wasn't cute, you pain in the ass, it was a desperate cry for MORE FUCKING ATTENTION. Let poor EH alone! The man needs a break from your antics! He's exhausted from you being sick, hurt, suffering, dying, whining or just plain attention-whoring.

Odd Wife, wake the fuck up. I'm so angry with you for your behavior, but I'm going to love you and forgive you too. You've been a very, very bad girl and the time for change has come.

You have a life, a remarkably different and new life to work on. One where you're going to fight to find the good instead of seeing the bad first and foremost. One where you're going to find and enjoy peace and happiness without forcing it into being.

Your new life is waiting for you to step into it. Get off your ass and make something of yourself. Go make your family and friends happy. Go think about someone else first for a change. Get off your fucking soapbox, spotlight, walk of fame and step into a world that doesn't fucking revolve around you.

And if you should decide not to make the changes...then you fucking deserve the misery that lies ahead. Go be a better person.

I know you can do this. Even if you're not especially worth it at the moment, EH and SG are - and they deserve a lot more from you. Give it to them starting right NOW.

I made it to work today...barely. But being there did feel so much better to me. The pain in my back was fairly intense and made sitting very hard. By mid-morning I was at wits end and called my primary care doctor for an immediate appointment. Left work early and headed off.

I'm not responding to my blood pressure meds. I'm on the maximum dosages and today he even had me double up on the water pill as an extreme measure and it's not working. My pressure dropped for about an hour and then climbed right back up. That's pretty bad news all around and I don't even want to talk about what it means. He's giving me one week to get it under control with extra meds. After that, it's a real possiblity we'll be moving into some ugly territory starting with hospitalization.

Tuesday, May 10, 2005

Odd Online Things

I used to be the Queen of the Internet. No...really. I was.

I worked from home and the internet was new and I discovered some nifty tricks and tips to really get the most of my online time. One year, we had a HUGE 100% free Christmas thanks to my online adventures.

Now, granted I never have the time to explore the internet the way I used to, but I'm a smart girl and I'm pretty sure I still know my way around. So, why not share the goodies with you?

First of all, I love getting free things in the mail. I used to get 20-30 free things in the mail every day ranging from cookies to sneakers. But, I lapsed. Let's see if we can't all get some free things...

Start Sampling is a super cool site. You can choose a free sample to be mailed to you everyt day ranging from dog food, coffee, snacks, etc. It takes all of 30 seconds to do each day and the stuff adds up...it's so handy when you realize you're out of coffee at 6 am and remember you have a free sample tucked away. You earn 'Frequent Tryer Miles' for visits, samples, surveys, etc. that you can redeem for small prizes.

Free Ride is one of my favorites - and it was a huge part of my 'free Christmas'. You log in each day and earn tokens for online shopping (if you're going to buy something online anyways just link through your Free Ride site and earn tokens on the dollar...you can also earn tokens for taking surveys, signing up for email newsletters, etc. Your tokens add up pretty quick and are redeemable for gift cards at popular shops and restaurants. I believe I had redeemed tokens for a couple $50 JC Penny gift cards that I used towards that free Christmas. You get 500 points just for enrolling...today I earned 500 tokens for a 2 minute survey.

I'll keep digging and posting. A great deal of my finds are usually discount codes for shopping. Sometimes I find $20 off of $30+ which is pretty sweet.

So that's why I feel so rotten! Vertigo! And, hey - it doesn't help that I threw my back out yesterday! Geeez, did I piss off the gods, or what???

I didn't make it to work today - having not slept a wink. EH didn't have the heart to send me. He called my supervisor, who was so sweet and caring yesterday and today gave him a bit of a bitchy tone. I really need to get back, but how - when I can't sit in a chair and the room spins and dips around me? Should be interesting...

And, that's all I can manage for now. I need a bit more horizontal time. Tonight is something to look forward to, though - the season finale of Veronica Mars. I have loved that show this year. The writing style reminds me of Buffy the Vampire Slayer with the dialogue. If you were a Buffy fan, you'd enjoy Veronica.

Hey, look at the time...nearing 2 am and I can't sleep. My mouth hurts. My head hurts. And I'm briefly awake from sleeping all day...but soon to return to bed.

While I'm awake, I blog-surfed.

Remember my whiny post from a few days ago where I was feeling my own mortality? I'm so disgusted with that post having read some other bloggers who are facing that which I was only abstractly worrying over...

First, there's Inanna. A new blog I started reading and felt drawn to. I've only read her for a few days now and today my heart ached for her reading this post.

Then there is this blog. A woman whose life just took a scary turn just as her dreams seemed to be coming true.

I'm the kind of annoying person who seeks meaning in everything. Between my worries and the stumbling upon these posts, I feel like a wake-up call is in order to myself. It's time to take better care of my body.

It's time to become more regimented on watching the blood pressure. It's time to become more diligent in the cancer screenings, because cancer is unfortunately a strong likelihood. It's time to look around me at my darling EH and SG and realize that I owe it to them to try. I know somethings are beyond my control, but I can at least do my part to strive for the better.

I don't want to know what the reality of facing that kind of news feels like. I don't want to know the fear, the pain or the sorrow. And, in truth, I don't want them to know it either. I want to be able to erase their posts and say "See, it never really happened! Everything's fine!"

Life and it's complexities are all around us. Blogland has some interesting dynamics, doesn't it?

I came here first to explore my own feelings. And I find myself exploring other people's feelings as well. I didn't expect that part. I didn't expect to learn - only to express.

Sunday, May 08, 2005

Happy Mother's Day

A woman has two smiles that an angel might envy, the smile that accepts a lover before words are uttered, and the smile that lights on the first born babe, and assures it of a mother's love. --Thomas C. Haliburton

It's not the sort of Mother's Day that will go down as sweetly memorable, is it? I'm still laid up in bed, sleeping more than awake. EH and SG are working to clean the house (the only gift I asked for was a clean house). This is one of my rare "awake" moments and believe me, I am already planning to go back to bed in a moment.

While my blog primarily focuses on marriage, being a mother is a precious gift that I do not take forgranted. I think it was best expressed in the sappy movie The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood when the dramatic Vivi says to her grown daughter, "...And then it dawned on me. All those years that I prayed, begging on my hands and knees for God to make me more, give me more, make me better, make me stronger, make me saner. Make all my dreams come true. I finally got an answer. Right there in one person, all I'd ever wanted to be, or do. And there you are. You came right through me and I never even realized it."

I see all of that in SG. She's a grown woman in a 9 year olds body - full of wisdom and the sort of common sense most adults lack, combined with a childlike innocense. She's so brilliant and caring and loving. In her, I see the possibilities of everything I ever dreamt. Being her mother is the greatest gift of all...

And now, in my own ongoing drama, I shall take to my bed again...somehow, I'm not convinced I'm going to make it to work tomorrow.

Saturday, May 07, 2005

#4: Have you ever been stopped for speeding? (and did you manage to charm your way out of it?!)

Yes, many years ago and definitely not!

I was 17 and speeding, although not wildly - maybe 10 mph over. I was heading home from my afterschool job and coming around a curve in the road where a speedtrap had been set up. A motorcycle cop stepped into the road in front of me and held up his hand.

Well...I was not only speeding a bit, I was also fiddling with my radio. I didn't see him until the last possible moment when he had to leap out of my way. I didn't even try to talk my way out of it...

Other than that, EH will tell you I drive like a grandmother. I do the speed limit, but won't speed. I signal before every turn or lane change. I never turn right on red if there's a sign saying not to.

It's true that the pain meds prescribed by the surgeon help, but they have drawbacks too...making me queasy, etc.

Fortunately for me, the very best medicine is free and plentiful.

EH has a bit of a magic effect on me. He always has and I've come to depend on it more than I could ever depend on a chemical to fix me. No matter how sick or scared or awful I feel, he has this incredible ability to comfort and soothe me. He says nothing, just sits or lies close to me. He strokes my skin, my hair, my back. He holds me close and like magic I feel a sense of peace come over me. The sickness is still there. The pain is still there. Only I become ever so slightly less aware of it. I'm too busy focusing on the gentle, loving touch of the man I love.

Sounds so sappy, doesn't it? But it's true. I don't understand it myself, but I swear by it. Somehow, after all these years, I am still completely head over heels for this man.

And, no. I am not under the influence right now. My last dose was at 6:30 and should be just wearing off.

I am a big fan of many other blogs. I try to list them all in my links, but I get lazy in updating sometimes. I do read other blogs quite a bit though and I am always interested in people's lives. I am sometimes sad when I read of a wife who wishes she could manage to feel this way for her spouse again. I wish there was some method to it, but the truth is - I genuinely just got lucky. Far luckier than I deserve.

My husband is not perfect. But I am truly and completely in love with him. And after more than 10 years, he still ignites that spark in me.

And times like this, when I hurt or feel horrible, I am so lucky to have this to turn to for comfort.

Friday, May 06, 2005

Recovery

I survived surgery!

Yay! Surgery was a piece of cake...kinda. Recovery is the bitch.

I admitted to the surgeon how afraid I was. He gave me nitrous oxide first, then a tiny iv in the hand. He said I would begin to feel like I had been drinking heavily, but in truth, everything just went numb. Then, no more.

I can only assume I was unconscious. If I wasn't, it doesn't matter. I remember being poured into a wheelchair. I remember being dropped heavily into the car. I remember home and EH trying to get me inside as my legs melted into the ground repeatedly.

I remember sleeping.

I remember waking up...pools of blood in my mouth, great pain, etc., etc.

Ugh.

It's been hours now and I actually feel less awful than I feared. Of course, I am keeping the Vicodin doses mighty close. At one point I asked for one and EH told me to wait an hour (every 4-6 hours and it had only been 3). I waited 1/2 hour and called him again...when he came in I could only manage to say "Vicodin RIGHT NOW!". He complied, so he gets to live. Since then, I've taken the precious pills at the 4 hour mark ON THE DOT.

I'm on it now. Which is why I am completely boring. And while I think the typing is okay and not ridden with spelling errors, I have to admit I am doing a lot of backspacing to fix stupid mistakes.

And now dizzy and nauseous again. Time to lie down again. Thanks for all the well wishes. They meant a lot...

By the way...today, my mother-in-law called to ask how I was. My dad called. My neighbor called. The receptionist at my office called.

We have made it home and TOW is currently ensconced--and unconscious--on the front sofa. Her face is so packed with cotton that she resembles a squirrel hoarding for a winter frost. It is tough to detail her condition right now as she's still hopped up on anesthetics. We pulled up to the home and I had to heft her from the car and pour her into the sofa. We'll get her up to bed laterConsidering that they hauled out five teeth the procedure went surprisingly fast. Once she went in I sat for 30 minutes before darting across the street to one of those out-of-town news stands that is packed to the rafters with periodicals. After 15 minutes I returned with an obscure movie mag and 2 local tabloid papers for the long stretch of waiting and the staff was already looking for me to go in back and claim her. She has survived, and now the weekend of tending to her shall commence.

It's time to go. I'm really scared. I've never had surgery before. Will I feel it? They are only putting me in twilight anethesia. Will there be a lot of blood? Will I be able to be breathe? Will it hurt my heart? I feel sick, will I throw up? Will they hit the nerves that run so close to my teeth and paralyze my mouth? Will I die?

Yeah. I'm scared. So stupid. You would think I was having a heart transplant the way I am carrying on.

Thursday, May 05, 2005

Ode to an Odd Existence

It's true. I'm really scared about my surgery tomorrow. Wimpishly scared. Childishly scared. I tried to convince my office to insist that I come to work...they refused and told EH to make sure I got to my surgery on time.

Tonight is the worst. Preparing for a few days of...what? Pain?

Time for a different approach.

My life is good. Sure, finances are always a problem...but look at what I have! I have EH and SG and a home overflowing with love and fun.

Last night, lying in bed, I stroked EH's cheek and beamed at him as we snuggled close.

The morning commute just plain sucks. Traffic is a bitch. It's about 40 minutes to my office. The only bright spot is that I carpool with EH, so we use the speed lane and get to spend some time together. Even if it's quiet, waking up time...

This is the view of my morning commute. This morning, to be specific.

This is the sticker on the rear bumper of my car. I love pin-up art, especially Betty Paige style images.

Scenes from my cube at my office. My bosses think it looks like "prom", but they love that I express myself in unusual ways.

The two small rose bushes at top were gifts from EH. When they bloom, I love seeing fresh roses on my desk. The neon pink glitter cowgirl hat was a Dollar Store score. The postcards at the top are scenes from the movie Office Space which reminds me to not take it all so seriously. The red doiley hearts were put up for Valentine's Day and I later refused to take them down, insisting that "I heart my job" which never fails to make someone groan. The two paintings were done by me one day. I love to paint. I suck at it, but it relaxes me...

Yes, that's a red feather boa around my cork board. Every now and then I wear it to lunch and insist that it's a formal lunch. It's even funnier when my co-workers see me do it and don't comment. They've come to expect me to be a bit odd. The pink marabou feather trimmed thin on top of the filing cabinet is an adorable 'purse lamp' that lights up. The flip book on the very top ledge was a present from EH and has dozens of funny sayings with 50's style female art. This particular day it says "I used to care, but now I take a pill for that" which I thought suited my Vicodin mood lately.

Close ups of my "art"

The shelfs behind me are a mish-mosh of items I like to play with. Silver plastic martini glasses, assorted candles, a vase of dried flowers from my best friend, a photo of EH and I, a tiny witch figurine, an "I LOVE YOU" mug, a feathered sequined mardi-gras mask, a love-potion #9 picture frame, a fake plant, a clay voodoo doll I made at the last company meeting (insisting to everyone it was a co-worker), a small fan (my window makes it hot), Two bottles of merlot from a company I used (I keep them at work just in case a day gets really crazy and I have to resort to drinking), a fairy figurine, a small stuffed black cat for my witchy days, The Bad Girls Handbook to Getting Everything they Want, a giant blowfish picture my friends hung up that they wrote "I'm a princess! Isn't my tiara pretty?" on (I don't get it, I just keep it up because I love them), and an empty pink picture frame. (Random trivia: I actually have about 8 assorted picture frames in funky shapes, sizes and colors that are all empty of pictures. I think it's funny because people wonder why they're empty. The truth is, I'm just too lazy to put pictures in them).

The entrance to my cube...

Dried roses, a house picture calendar, more red heart doileys, a keychain sized Ouija board (I like to tell people I'm consulting the spirit guides on their files to freak them out), a pink dress notepad under which I hung a Sax 5th Avenue sales add to make 'legs' and a silver pipecleaner shaped into a heart from SG.

Either I am incredibly more sexually frustrated that I thought or I live in a very weird place.

I swear that last night in the very middle of the night, I was awakened briefly by a man speaking loudly under my window about "ramming my long fat cock into your fat pussy" or something to that effect. I remember thinking it was pretty crude for dirty talk. I also remember being too tired and too-Vicodin-ed to get out of bed and look out the window. I don't think he was speaking to me, I think he was talking out loud as he walked through the little dirt alley way. I even briefly remember being worried that SG would hear him.

Very, very strange.

Time for a teacher conference at SG's school to discuss a "new educational plan". Not sure what that is supposed to mean. She aced her FCATS and she's a straight A student, so it can't be bad.

Wednesday, May 04, 2005

Odd Honey-Do List

It's late and no one feels much like cooking in our home. I'm tired and still fighting off this icky feeling. EH is tired. Fortunately a very nice upscale grocery store is just a couple blocks away. EH volunteered to go.

Did you ever think,When a hearse goes by,That one of these daysYou are going to die?

Did you ever truly worry about your own death? A moment where you though "is this it?"

I am. Worrying about death. Worrying about my death. I keep thinking I am dying.

I'm suffering from a multitude of problems between the abcess infection, the medications and my blood pressure problems. The antibiotics make me sick and raise my blood pressure. The Vicodin puts me to sleep, yet somehow still raises my blood pressure. The blood pressure pills aren't working properly. I've had a solid discomfort in the center of my chest for the past 2 days. Yesterday, my blood pressure was 193/123. I've had heart problems for years and years. I told EH I thought I would have a heart attack.

It took nearly 4 times the regular dosage of blood pressure medication to lower my pressure yesterday. Plus an additional pill (hydrochlorathyazide).

And I have to admit, I really start to wonder if I will die today, tonight, tomorrow?

My pressure is already climbing today and my head is pounding and that damned knot in my chest is back. I need a new primary care physician to help me with my blood pressure. The one I have now is a moron. He took blood from me 6 months ago to run some tests. I still don't have results. Idiot. I fainted in his office when they drew the blood and he helped me to my car and closed up his office for the night...while I sat, afraid to drive, in an empty parking lot.

I'm tired, cranky and annoyed with taking 27 pills a day to regulate the migraines, nausea, tooth pain, blood pressure and fatigue. I wish it were Friday. I wish the surgery was today. I wish I was on the road to recovery.

But after this, another battle. My heart problems. And after that, another battle - the mammogram. I am dreading going for it because I am sure it will show something. No, I don't feel a lump. But between my medical history and my family's history...

I have a lot to live for. Every second with EH and SG is well worth any effort to live. So why am I suddenly obsessed with death?

Tuesday, May 03, 2005

I've taken days to think this one through. This is the hardest question I think I have ever had to answer. I was tempted to say I don't have one. The problem is that it's a bit of a trick question really. I can't tell you my favorite color, song, movie or book either. I have millions of favorites.

Then it occured to me. It was simple really. It was the moment I said "I do" to EH.

It's the one time in my life that I believed in something so strongly. It's the one "right" choice I made, and believe me, it was a hard choice! I risked every safe thing I knew, every friend, every family member - my very soul - but I just knew EH was the one.

Everyone thought I was crazy. I had run away from my childhood sweetheart, practically at the altar (okay, on the honeymoon) and straight into EH's arms. But that night, when we locked eyes in the hot church and became man and wife, it all changed...the same people who thought I was insane kept remarking on my smile and how incredibly happy I looked.

You could never understand how terrifying it was to choose EH when everyONE and everyTHING suggested I was making a mistake. Only my heart told me this was right. And it was then that I learned to trust and follow my heart.

Did you ever wake up and just know it was going to be a rotten day? You dread going to work, you're cranky and miserable and expecting the worse? There's no sunshine, just grey clouds overhead (literally) and you know it's awful, but you can't manage to put on a positive attitude any better than you can put on those tight pantyhose in the dark.

I'm grouchy. I don't feel good. I want to stay home. And I hate my job right now.

I slept on it and that bullshit from yesterday is still pissing me off. I'll have to find a way of dealing with it today or this won't work. I'm the kind of person who showed up at work Monday morning after losing the baby in a dramatic labor and delivery scene that weekend. I stay until late, late at night when needed. I bring work home. I go out of my way to get things done. I never leave early. I never take long lunches...so the ONE time my lunch ran over (we went to a restaurant that was slow) - you just don't give me shit like that. You just don't tell me I have to make up 20 minutes THAT week.

You have to understand, my supervisor is this 20-something year old girl who is the unofficially adopted child of my bosses. You get the picture?

I'm finding that I am insulted enough to quit. It's not about the 20 minutes. I have never once left the office on time, and hardly ever even TAKE lunch, so the time being made up isn't an issue. It's the attitude. That "fuck you, we don't appreciate you" atttitude.

Monday, May 02, 2005

Rosie O'Donnell--Funny for the 1st Time in Years

Last night CBS played the Hallmark film "Riding the Bus With My Sister", and when The Odd One and myself had switched it on at some mid-point we were dumbstruck. Part of me did not want a thing to do with the movie, and the other part of me--that part which loves movie disasters (and makes my wife's eyes roll)--did not want to miss it. There are those people who view Rosie O'Donnell as a caring and funny performer. Others see her as a corpulent banshee intent on hectoring people on what she perceives as right in the world. I'm in the latter camp.

We stared at the screen, trying to come to grips with what we were seeing. The other people in the cast were moving around and behaving like they were in a real film, but Rosie's performance as a mentally challenged woman floored us for its ridiculous attempt at acting. It looked and sounded like something you'd hear on an Opie & Anthony skit. But she was sincere. And deliciously awful. It was a performance on par with those shows on the medical channel where they extract 70lb. tumors from people--what is on screen is repugnant and yet you cannot look away.

But there are those who feel differently. On O'Donnell's blog the woman who loves exaltation made a post with the simple comment "post away", to allow scads of her fans to heap more worship upon her. Over 1,000 comments flowed in. Looking over these posts I became a little more enlightened on things. Rosie was essentially "acting" to the choir. Some examples--

Ally 9:03 AND YOU ARE THE CUTEST THING EVER!!!Folks, just to remind you, this is Rosie O'Donnell she's referring to.

Mir 9:10 I switched from Desperate Housewives to watch. I’m sure it will be worth it.I’m certain that Mir will not take the time to post when there is the lunge for the remote to return to Wisteria Lane.

TraciF 9:15 Ro_You Rock! I’m thinking a EMMY Nom should be headed your way for this one.This is the first of countless mentions of an Emmy for “Ro”. I cannot decide if this is an indication that her audience has a poor grasp of what constitutes good acting or how far the Emmy has fallen in esteem.

HeatherP 9:17 I’m already crying…you are terrific Rosie!Heather fires the opening salvo in a fusillade of posts about what a “weeper” this is. The others have to distinguish themselves by the measure of their tears (“My shirt is soaked”, “I’m on the second box of Kleenex”, et.al.)

Sandy 9:21 Rosie - you are doing an incredible job of bringing dignity to this role….I love it. Thanks.All the while I had thought her method of gnashed teeth and loud assertions was channeling Ed Grimley--and embarrassing. Dignity had not come to my mind

Mimi from the Bronx 9:22More controversy is afoot as Mimi claims to have been crying since 7:00 over “Extreme Makeover: Home Edition”. I’m also welling up because I’m beginning to understand why shows like these are on the air.

Sage 9:22 I smell an Emmy!I wonder if this is a compliment or if Sage is in a compromising position in the office of a television executive.

Rachael 9:23She posts about a particular scene she has just viewed.I’m already blubbering. Does it get more emotional than this?And what had she watched that was so emotionally stirring?Beth in the park alone, eating a doughnut, looking at the full moon. I am blown away.Sooo…Rachael is moved by seeing Rosie, sitting down, and eating. Possibly method acting here, but hardly a stretch.

Bru 9:27 P.S. WE NEED MORE RO(sie) ON THE IDIOT BOX !This was in a glowing post so I know Bru did not intend to deliver the most immaculately accurate assessment of the proceedings, but it is perfect.

MarcoBennett 9:42A glimmer that not everyone is swayed.Sorry but I am not going to watch the movie. Going to go for a walk instead. It just doesn’t look like my cup of tea.This is a Rosie fan, and a tea drinker, and yet he would prefer to take a walk.

Colleen 9:46 even the commercials make me cry…Now things are starting to come into focus with this crowd.

Eliza 9:56In a post that mimics O’Donnell’s blogging style Eliza hits upon what is important in her first line.great movie, bad perm.

DIANE 10:18 EVERYTHING YOU DO AND TOUCH IS GOLD.Now I could use this moment to point out the disaster she made of her magazine, but instead I’ll simply use three words—“Exit to Eden”.Janice 10:28 I thought Tom Hanks was so convincing as Forrest Gump, but you beat even that.Maybe, Janice, just maybe. BUT—does this compare at all to…Ed Grimley???

...and not in the good way. I feel so sick. I haven't felt this sick since pregnancy and no, I am not pregnant.

Work should be a special treat. My supervisor, practically a teenager, will be short and curt with me all day because I was out sick on Friday. Nevermind that it was my first sick day in 5 months.

And I feel awful. Really awful. Like I really SHOULD call in sick awful, but I won't because I don't want to deal with the wrath.

But if I have to throw up...I'm using her wastebasket in her cube.

Want.To.Go.Back.To.Bed.

*UPDATED*I'm such a bitch. The people at my office couldn't be more caring or supportive. They're doing everything but holding my hair when I throw up. I love my job. I'm terribly pissed at myself for forgetting that this morning.

*UPDATED AGAIN*I'm not a bitch, I'm an idiot. My supervisor isn't caring or supportive, she's a clock-watching, egotistical child who just prompted me to dust off my resume. Sorry folks, but when someone routinely works 60-70 hours a week and then runs over on the lunch hour, you don't tell them all that time doesn't count and tell me I have to make up 20 minutes. You can bet I won't be so quick to work any extra time.

Sunday, May 01, 2005

The Weekend Endured

From Friday morning we have been operating in our own little emotional dervish but the good thing is that here we are, on the backside of the weekend, and we have endured. First we had to dance around town in order to get a professional to look at her dentition. (Only the best for TOW, no amateur oral surgeons for her!) Then we had to go through the various attitudes that ebb and flow with the application of pain killers.

Over all she did really well, I was impressed. Occasionally she would approach with a very heartfelt compliment to me, looking deeply into my eyes.

"Vicodin just kick in?""eYup!" she'd say enthusiastically.

Saturday was no picnic, as to be expected, but it went well. None of the "Knots Landing"-type drama her family is prone to exhibiting, which was a good thing. (Wait until the settling of the estate.) The last funeral we attended had the wake in the home of the deceased, and after a lengthy party there was one point when everyone, on cue, started going through and claiming items in the house. I stood in the bar in stunned amazement, and then they went for the bar items. I barely got out with some bottles and a martini glass.

Last night was tough for The Odd One. She was to bed early but then was up near midnight, sick from the meds or the infection. It kills me when she gets sick and there is little I can do. We have our sickness dance that we do in this house. She feels rotten, wants my attention to fix her, I ask her if she has done some basic remedies, she pouts at my berating her, and then I tend to her needs until she is resting.The opposite is true when I'm sick, largely because being sick only pisses me off and I don't care for coddling. TOW hates when I don't let her dote. Really all I need is some aspirins, Vitamin-C, yogurt for the immune system, and a shot of rum or two for the pain. But she gets all, "Let me take care of you," and the like. Then our daughter becomes the queen of empathy, and later the dog begins to miss me and discovers for once he has the edge in our wrestling battle.

Next weekend will really be tough for the Woman of Red. Surgery on Friday as a prelude to Mother's day weekend. The cool part is that I actually enjoy taking care of her, and when she is weak, and drugged, she for once has to actually listen to me. Tending to her is one of those little rewards nobody else can really appreciate.

Here's what we learned. For some reason, the pain pill slayed me last night. Did I take 2 too close together? Was it lack of food when the last pill was taken?

Shortly after my ramblings, I grew very sick, crawled to EH whining and eventually he put me to bed sick as a day. Either that or the infection toxins were having their fun.

Whatever. Apparently I really like my hair when I'm 'out of it'.

Here's the rest of the pictures from last night.

At least it shows my hair color better...

And here's the start of what was apparently going to be risque photos before I got sick. This would be my, pulling the front of my shirt out, sticking a camera down it and snapping. Those dots...? Freckles. No redhead is complete without them.

I am suddenly a regular Vicodin pill popping gal. I think it's very chic. I'm writing now as the Vicodin slowly kicks in, so if this post makes zero sense or is just stupid, I have an excuse.

Vicodin has a lovely effect on me. It relaxes me to a place where I am calm, happy and appreciative. I frequently begin to explain my deep love for EH to him under the influence. Trying to work on it this week should be a picnic...

It made the after-reception of the funeral more peaceful to me. Even with the super bitchy people in attendance. I almost found it easier to overlook my mother being 1 hour late to her father's funeral while the aunts watched me like I was the guilty one. The funeral itself was hard and there were tears. Watching the coffin be lowered was hard. Seeing my grandfather was hard. He looked like a mannequin. I almost questioned if it was him until I saw his hands. I knew those hands. He had the Sunday comics tucked in one arm. Remember I told you he taught me to read from them? He was buried with them, courtesy of aunt #1.

The food was un-fucking-believable. If you are in South Florida and need a caterer - I have found the treasure. I swear on all that is holy, this was the best meal of my life.

It was as awkward as I suspected. My family is comprised of freaks. It was fun towards the end when I finally allowed myself a pain pill to ease the pain and became much more open. I told my aunt and uncle about losing a baby in August. They had no idea. That's how close we all are.

I can tell the pain pills have kicked in since I just spent the past several minutes sitting on my doorstep admiring my hand. It's smooth, unlined with short manicured (FAKE!) nails. It's good considering my feet are ugly as hell (even if EH thinks they're cute.)

And here's some fun with photos - Vicodin style.

See? Pretty hands, Fred Flinstone feet...

And here's a couple gems for you...

These are the 3 sisters. The woman on the far right in the black dress? That's my mom. She's 50. Not bad, eh?

Here she is with SG. Grandmother and granddaughter.

Kinda makes 50 look good, huh?

I have decided I like my hair. I wore it blown straight today. It's getting long. Yes, it's red. Very red. Probably hard to tell in this photo, but in the daylight it looks like my head is on fire.

EH and SG. My husband is so damn good looking. SG's too cute for words.

And...finally...

The view to my left when I sit on the doorstep:

and the view to my right:

And now I had better go to bed before the clothes come off and I photograph left and right breast.